Damn the Consequences

Still clasping Donovan, by the hand Denver asked.

"Be good if you and your band could help us clear up the mess before you leave.

It would be done a lot quicker."

"I don't see why not.

I'm guessing theses clowns had supplies to feed an army and we could do with a good feed."

"I hope you don't expect our women to be doing the cooking.

Cus they definitely ain't those type of Gals."

"That will be no problem, my band is more than capable of fending for themselves.

You may not have known Lou; she definitely wasn't that type of Gal either."

"Although like her sister Brandy, she's was one good looker.

Oh, and don't tell Brandy I said that, I'll never live it down.

So, what you got planned?"

"Well, from what I can see the ground around here's all rocks and boulder.

So, you can be sure there's no way we can dig deep graves.

We don't want them being dug up by coyotes."

"Why you bothered, you don't seem like a god-fearing man.

I'd leave them to rot where they lay, the scum doesn't deserve anything better?"

"I agree, but there are others here who do care.

Not because they are god-fearing, but because they respect the dead.

My wife and daughters are among those people.

If you think Brandy's a hard ass, you don't want to get on the wrong side of them."

"That's fine talking Denver, but we got dozens of bodies to dispose of?

Hang on, do you think they'd object to having the bodies cremated?"

"If done respectfully, I don't see why they should.

So, tables turned my friend, what's going through your mind?"

"You got any of that dynamite left?

If so, we can use it to blow some holes in the ground.

Where we can incarcerate the bodies and use the timber from this s*** hole to build a funeral pyre.

By the time that's finished burning, I doubt there will be a bone remaining, maybe he odd tooth.

It won't be the first or last mass grave, in these wild parts."

"Okay Donovan, I'll take your proposal to the ladies.

Take my word for it, these things never quite go to plan."

Denver tipped his hat and wandered off to discuss with the women and was surprised to find they had all gathered together with Missy in the largest shack, now being used as a makeshift triage. Only the Amazonians were missing who had remained on the ridge to keep a watchful eye out, they did not like surprises.

Missy and Shadow had the place running ship shape and Bristol fashion, with what little resources they had they were doing an amazing job. He felt his heart dip when Missy looked up and caught his eye and she nodded in despair. He knew instinctively that all was not well, she passed a bandage to Annie and walked over to Denver and rested her head on his chest. Slowly she began to sob, he held her tight and just let her cry.

Looking over her head he saw Brett and Bart gathered around a bed, Shadow was on her knees clasping Conan's hand in prayer. He now understood her tears, Conan had been a ward of ours since he was a child, but he was more than that, he was thought of son, to the boys he was their big brother, neither Petra nor Shadow knew him that well, but could sense form the families despair how important he was.

"Missy, sorry I've got to ask, is our big boy dead?"

Choking back the tears, she raised her head and looks forlornly into his eyes.

"No, not yet.

It's not like he received a fatal wound.

The stubborn idiot refused to stop when he was shot and has simply lost too much, blood.

He's hardly enough left to get the oxygen around his body.

He's barely breathing and has the faintest heartbeat.

I don't think he'll last the night, if he does, I kill him myself."

"Missy my love, he won't.

You Shadow and Petra are going to make sure he doesn't.

Then you can kill him."

She placed her hands gently on his cheeks.

"Denver, look at me honey, you know we can't promise that.

We are not Gods; we have no power over life and death."

He took her hands in his and spoke with a determination that was impossible to resist, the power in his voice drew everyone's attention.

"Missy, that's not what I mean.

I've seen this before.

Tell me he's all stitched up and not losing any more blood."

She nodded in agreement.

"Good, then that means the longer he survives, the better his chances.

Keep him hydrated and constantly but gently move his limbs.

If he doesn't stop breathing and his heart keeps beating, he won't die.

I won't allow it; we have to believe.

It's up to you to make sure that happens.

With all three of you talking to him, his brain won't be allowed to stop."

With that Denver turns and struts off, this was not the time to discuss the funeral pyre and decided to go ahead with Donavon's proposal, and damn the consequences, he needed to be making things happen.

"Donovan let's make it happen."